Dad had essentially been unemployed for about ten years. He had jobs here and there in our hometown of Stafford, England, but they never worked out.
He had always come across as cheerful and confident, but we watched his confidence erode as the years passed. Although he was a practicing Catholic, his church attendance seemed to offer him no real consolation. He knew none of the joy and peace that I and others had come to know in a personal relationship with Jesus.
I wanted him to know what I knew and would encourage him to pray and read his Bible. So would Mum. Poor Dad! These encouragements would generally be met with, “Yes, I know I should,” but then nothing would happen. He’d continue to be burdened and weighed down—and we’d be exasperated!
Keeping Vigil. One night I resolved to pray for my dad throughout the night. I only made it to about 2:00 a.m., but by that time…
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